


Cookies for Breakfast

by ivelostmyspectacles



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cooking, Finger Sucking, I am gonna wear out that tag I stg, M/M, Married Life, Teasing, White Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 04:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13967004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/ivelostmyspectacles
Summary: He dropped back from the kiss, hair splayed out across the pillow top. “You taste sweet. What have you been eating?”A hand braced on the bed, and Ignis raised his eyebrows as though the question were offensive. Noct had to smother a giggle and decided that he was very much not yet awake. “Here I was, under the impression that I was made of sugar."





	Cookies for Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MogmaMittens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MogmaMittens/gifts).



> My Ignoct White Day Fic Exchange for @LGN1S, who asked for the boys feeding each other chocolates and I kind of went there :D I hope you enjoy this!! Domestic husbands are my _jam_ tbh

It was a lazy Wednesday morning, and Noct had full intention to take advantage of it. There were no meetings to be had, no work he had to attend to _just then_ , and the blankets were warm and soft and still smelled freshly washed, all laundry detergent and _home._ It was quiet, and peaceful, and he would be content to go back to sleep if only for the fact that… Ignis wasn’t there.

Unsurprisingly, Noct thought hazily, although his hand fell on Ignis’s vacated pillow nonetheless. He was an early riser– always had been, always would be. Often Noct found himself in bed alone, tangled up in the sheets until either his alarm blared or Ignis would reappear on schedule to wake him. He had stopped being disappointed long ago. Part it was actually endearing at this point, as were most things with his erstwhile husband.

And it gave him leave to not only smooth his hand along Ignis’s pillow but wrap both of his arms around it, pulling it up against his chest. He’d found that if he didn’t have _Ignis_ to cuddle, his pillow was a substitute. A slightly poor substitute, but it was soft and, if he caught it fast enough after Ignis crawled out of bed, warm, and always… _always_ smelled like him. It was always enough to lull him back into sleep, as though it took much anyway, always enough for him to bury his face into and breathe deeply and relax with the promise that Ignis had been there. That Ignis would come back.

It was still more than a little embarrassing to be occasionally woken up with his torso curled around that pillow, actually drooling on it in his sleep, but, well. It made Ignis _smile_ – made Ignis smile even though he couldn’t see the visual in front of him and that? That made it all worth it.

He tucked himself around the soft fabric and down filling and pressed his face into it. Yep. His Ignis. Some things were so solid and unchanging. His Ignis right from the very beginning.

“Looks as though you’re missing me, Majesty.”

Noct opened his eyes, staring at the blank expanse of white he had buried his face into. Oh, so he was caught already. Maybe he’d just gone to the bathroom or something, but… no, his pillow wasn’t warm, and neither was his side of the bed. Whatever the reason, the king couldn’t help a little whine as he relinquished Ignis’s pillow and rolled to face him. “When do I ever _not_ miss you? You never stay in bed long enough.” He swore to the gods that he wasn’t whining, but… again, the Ignis smiling thing. He’d say anything and do anything for that.

“Some of us can’t laze about all day, Noct,” Ignis replied. That smile, reaching all the way up to his scars. He was beautiful.

“I’m the king, I could outlaw early mornings.”

“I would allow them again,” Ignis said brightly, and then he was leaning in to kiss him, and the friendly banter came to a stop. Noctis went willingly into him, tension he always carried, no matter the day, melting away from him. Ignis’s lips were soft and gentle, and… tasted faintly of something sugar sweet. That was different. Ignis usually didn’t eat sweets for breakfast, and he had definitely brushed his teeth last night.

He leaned back from the kiss, hair splayed out across the pillow top. “You taste sweet. What have you been eating?”

A hand braced on the bed, and Ignis raised his eyebrows as though the question were _offensive_. Noct had to smother a giggle and decided that he was very much not yet awake. “Here I was, under the impression that I was made of sugar,” Ignis said, and Noctis spluttered as he reached up a hand to press against Ignis’s cheek.

“Is that why you’re afraid of getting wet when it rains?”

An ever fond smile, and Ignis rolled his eyes, pulling back from Noctis’s reach. “To answer your previous question…” He produced a cellophane wrapping from behind his back, gold patterned with a twist tie around the top. “I was taste-testing these.”

“A new recipe.”

Ignis laughed quietly. “Just so.” He set the package onto Noct’s thigh. “Happy White Day, Noct.”

Oh, right, it was White Day. He’d completely forgotten. Honestly it had been a minor miracle he’d remembered _Valentine’s_ , and then he thought that was only because Ignis’s birthday was so close. He… tended to forget about other stuff when he was working. Which was always, nowadays. “It’s chocolate?” He plucked at the tie eagerly. He never had learned to be _cool_ when it came to Ignis’s sweets. He didn’t think he ever would, either.

He had never been witness to Ignis’s struggles with cooking after he had lost his sight. He had barely been there to witness _any_ of Ignis’s struggles at all, given how quickly the gods had taken him away after Altissia. (It may have felt like a lifetime, between Altissia and Gralea, but he knew it hadn’t been.) He could still vividly remember the swoop of sickening dismay every time Ignis had stumbled going through the mine, how he had wanted to turn away so he didn’t witness that it was _Ignis_. His always perfectly put together Ignis. But he hadn’t. He hadn’t deserved to turn away and he hadn’t deserved to let Ignis struggle through on his own for ten years. He hadn’t had a choice, but…

Well, he didn’t take it for granted. Back when he was younger, he thought maybe he had without intending to. But no longer.

Definitely not any longer, he thought, letting the cellophane fall open to present a small bundle of chocolate cookies that looked _divine._ “Damn, Iggy.”

“They’re hot chocolate cookies.” Ignis pressed a palm against his leg, nudging him over. “Something I’d been meaning to try. It slipped my mind the past few months but I thought I’d give it a go for White Day.”

“They look great.” He plucked one from the wrapping and took a bite. He’d moved over to accommodate Ignis space to sit (not that it mattered much– he still vividly remembered the one time Ignis had all but flopped into his lap due to his lack of desire to move) and pretended he _didn’t_ look for the way that his husband’s body turned towards him infinitesimally, eyes unseeing but beseeching for an opinion nonetheless. “Oh hell, they _are_ great.” He slumped back on the pillows a little. “Wasn’t it just, like, two weeks ago you were on me about my fitness regime?! You said I was getting fat and then bring me these?!”

“I did _not_ say His Majesty was getting _fat.”_ He sounded affronted at the idea, but Noct just laughed.

“Yeah right. Here, have one so I don’t gain _all_ the weight.”

Another roll of the eyes, but Ignis took the proffered cookie to take a bite. He looked contemplative, for a moment, and then _pleased_ , humming to himself as he went in for a second bite.

“Didn’t you try them?”

“Not the finished product.”

“Huh.” He brushed crumbs off of his fingers and likely onto his shirt. “Cookies for breakfast. Never would have guessed.”

“And that’s precisely why I didn’t make chocolates,” Ignis said warmly, nestling up against his side. “I knew there’d be no keeping you out of them.”

“Well, duh.”

“Majesty is most impulsive,” Ignis teased, and reached for a second cookie. This time, he held it aloft to Noct, head tilting slightly in question _as if_ Noct wouldn’t take it.

“And Majesty’s husband is an instigator,” Noct retorted, although he leaned forward to take a bite nonetheless. Because _as if_ he wouldn’t take it. A chance to be hand fed, no less from the comfort of their own bed. He made a mental note to properly pamper Ignis in return later. Perhaps he would draw up a bath for the both of them.

“Perish the _thought_.”

He laughed, spluttering cookie all over himself and now definitely his shirt. And the bedsheets, and the other cookies, Ignis’s _arm_ , as he nearly choked.

“Noct?”

He caught his wrist in hand before he could pull away. “I’m fine.” After briefly clearing his throat, he was.

As was Ignis’s tendency to worry, there was hesitation in his voice as he responded. “You don’t need to get _that_ excited.” Humor, but hesitation.

“Yeah I do.” Small as the cookies were, the second bite finished it off, and then a spark of an idea settled beneath his skin. He didn’t let go of Ignis’s hand. “Lemme show you how excited I can be,” he joked, and drew two of Ignis’s fingers into his mouth.

More laughter, bubbling up from Ignis’s lips as Noct worked his own around the first knuckle. “How did I expect this would happen?”

“This was probably your plan all along.” A scrape of teeth against his fingertip. “Hand feeding me and everything.” He nipped at his skin sharply, and grinned as he sucked in to the second.

“Not exactly.” Ignis pressed his fingertips against Noctis’s tongue, pressing it down flush to the bottom of his mouth. “Although I’m not complaining.”

Noct hummed and sucked harder, teasing his tongue between both digits when Ignis relented the pressure. He hollowed his cheeks and then pulled off, eyes flicking to Ignis’s face for approval. Then he took them in again, tip of his tongue passing over the fine lines in Ignis’s hands, the scar barely there from an age old fight. He let himself hit his own gag reflex, and _there_ was Ignis’s breathy sigh of reaction.

He let him pull his fingers free, delighted in the wetness of the pads of them as they settled along his jaw. The kiss was deep and lingering, and Noct moved his hands around to Ignis’s waist.

“Here– oh, wait.” He was still catching his breath as he pulled away, carefully moving the package of cookies to the empty side of the bed. “There, come here.” Then he was gripping bruises into Ignis’s hips and urging him over, grinning as Ignis settled atop his lap and leaned in to kiss again.

“Maybe the cookies were only part one,” his husband said quietly, and Noct?

Well. He was ever eager.


End file.
